In the first installment of our digital exhibition Félix, Collecteurs chats with Félix González-Torres’s older sister, Gloria González-Torres, about the artist’s early days. Reminiscing about a childhood spent exploring mischief and creativity, Gloria also shares intimate details of what it was like for her and young Félix to leave post-revolution Cuba and travel to Spain in 1970.
Collecteurs: The work of Félix González-Torres is often referred to as one of the most personal oeuvres in contemporary art1, however, there is so much to Félix’s personal life, particularly his early years, that has yet to be uncovered. What was Félix like as a child?
Gloria González-Torres: I remember him as a child who was always searching for something, an explorer, he loved nature and animals. He had cats and ducks as pets and would train them to follow his instructions.
In his calmest moments, he drew small figures, extremely small. I remember one in particular: It was a woman with an umbrella walking a tightrope. If you looked very closely you would realize it had all the details.
His laughter, though in my memory, I recall his laughter as an adult. I remember his mischievous face as a child, mischief and risk always accompanied him. From a young age he valued friendship, a quality that Félix always kept.
He protected my little sister, Maydita. Félix was 6 years older than Maydita; sometimes they were accomplices and sometimes he took care of her, they were a perfect duo.
Félix was determined and independent. I do not remember ever seeing him cry, but his eyes were always big and full of emotion, eyes that wanted to see everything. I remember seeing his soul through his eyes.
(Original in Spanish) Lo recuerdo como un niño en búsqueda siempre de algo, un explorador, amaba a la naturaleza y a los animales. Fueron sus mascotas gatos y patos. A los gatos los enseñaba a seguir sus instrucciones y lo lograba.
Sus ratos más tranquilos eran para dibujar pequeñas figuras, sumamente pequeñas. Recuerdo una en particular: Era una mujer con una sombrilla caminando por una cuerda floja, se lograba ver, mirando muy de cerca, y te dabas cuenta que tenía todos los detalles.
Su risa, tengo en mis oídos su risa de adulto, y también tengo en mi memoria su cara pícara de niño, las travesuras y el riesgo siempre lo acompañaron. Desde pequeño confió mucha en la amistad y ese valor Félix siempre lo conservó.
Era el protector de mi hermana pequeña, él era 6 años mayor que Maydita, a veces eran cómplices y aveces él la cuidaba, era un dúo perfecto de hermanos pequeños.
Félix era desde pequeño decidido e independiente, creo que nunca lo vi llorar, pero sus ojos siempre fueron grandes y llenos de emoción, unos ojos que querían verlo todo. Recuerdo ver el alma de Félix en sus ojos.
Collecteurs: I’ve seen several conflicting accounts of Félix’s early life on the internet, like , which states, “Gonzalez-Torres grew up in Cuba and Puerto Rico and then Spain before moving to New York City in 1979.” Others mention his time in Spain in passing and instead give much more emphasis to his time in Puerto Rico. Could you tell us a bit more about Félix’s experience emigrating from Cuba?
Gloria González-Torres: Yes, I would like to make some clarifications on inaccurate information that I have also found circulating regarding particularly our departure from Cuba. Félix and I left Cuba for Spain, it was January 12th, of the year 1970, but the Iberia plane had returned to Havana after about a half-hour of flight; we never knew why, there were different speculations as to what may have happened. We went out again the next day, Tuesday, January 13th, 1970. That second outing has its story, but I do not want to stray from the question.
Our mother trusted that nuns would receive us in Madrid and take us to a Catholic school, she had made the arrangements (not easily) and she thought that we would be welcomed by the church. However, we did not go to any school or to any “orphanage” as some biographies note. We stayed in a guest house in Madrid, #117 on López de Hoyos street. The house was owned by a woman named María Candela who was related to the clergy. I remember that Félix began attending a public school that was nearby for about a day or two, but did not want to return; he did not tell me the reason. I was in Madrid longer than Félix. Because he was a minor, he left before me and traveled to Puerto Rico, where the family of Uncle Raúl — our father’s brother — was waiting for him. I eventually met with him in Puerto Rico, and we lived 4 or 5 years with my uncles and cousins.
After a few years, Félix and I became independent, we both worked and studied. We rented an apartment together in Aponte Street, in Santurce. Later, it is from Puerto Rico that Félix left to continue his studies in New York. Before, he had studied at the Academia San Jorge for high school and at the University of Puerto Rico.
Si, me gustaría hacer algunas aclaraciones sobre información inexacta que me encuentro en distintos medios sobre nuestra salida de Cuba: Félix y yo salimos de Cuba hacia España, fue el año 1970 un 12 de enero, pero el avión Iberia tuvo que regresar a la media hora de vuelo, nuevamente a la Habana (nunca supimos porque, hay distintas versiones). Volvimos a salir al día siguiente …martes 13 de enero 1970. Esa segunda salida tiene su historia, pero no quiero desviarme del tema principal.
Mi madre confiaba que nos recibirían en Madrid unas monjas y nos llevarían a un colegio católico, nuestra madre había hecho las gestiones (nada fáciles) y pensaba que seriamos acogidos por la iglesia. Pero no fuimos a ningún colegio ni a ningún “orfanato “como dicen algunas biografías. Fuimos a una casa de huéspedes en Madrid, en la calle López de Hoyos #117. La dueña de la pensión se llamaba María Candela y estaba relacionada con el clero. Recuerdo que Félix comenzó a asistir a una escuela pública que estaba cerca de la pensión, pero no quiso regresar, no me dijo la razón. Yo estuve más tiempo en Madrid que Félix. El por ser menor de edad, salió antes que yo, viajo para Puerto Rico, donde lo esperaba la familia de tío Raúl (hermano de mi padre) Luego me reuní con él y vivimos como 4 o 5 años con mis tíos y primas.
Después de unos años Félix y yo nos independizamos, ambos trabajábamos y estudiábamos. Alquilamos un apto en la calle Aponte de Santurce. Mas adelante es desde Puerto Rico, que Félix sale para continuar sus estudios en New York. Ya antes había estudiado en la Academia San Jorge su High School y en la Universidad de Puerto Rico.
Collecteurs: What was Cuba like in the late 1950s and 1960s? What led you and Félix to leave Cuba and travel to Madrid?
Gloria González-Torres: THE LACK OF FREEDOM, that summarizes the decision to leave Cuba.
Disappointment, frustration, injustice, manipulation, suffocation, repression. Three years had passed since the triumph of the revolution, when my parents decided that we were going to leave Cuba, forced to make this decision because of the feelings we experienced in the family nucleus. We wanted to live in freedom.
We were a family of six: my parents and their four children. I am the oldest, then there is Mario, then Félix, and finally the youngest, Maydita. My parents began to take the necessary steps to leave the country, but we never understood why it took so long for them to give us permission to leave. Nine years passed until we were allowed to leave for Spain. However, only Félix and I were given permission. My brother Mario could not leave because the delay had caused him to turn 16 years old, therefore obligated to do compulsory military service. He had to wait until he was 27 years old to be able to leave the country.
I was willing to go, and my parents decided that Félix and I would leave first, hoping to meet again later. This is how we left for Spain, on Tuesday the 13th of January 1970.
Thanks to what is known as the Exodus of Mariel, or Mariel boatlift, I went on a boat to look for my family, but Fidel’s government only let me take out two people and I chose my brothers, because they were young and would be the most difficult to get out of the country. Then after a while my parents were able to leave Cuba for Spain.
This is how, after more than 10 years, Félix and I were able to reunite with our parents and siblings.
LA FALTA DE LIBERTAD, ese es el resumen de porque la decisión de abandonar la patria. Decepción, frustración, injusticias, manipulación, asfixia, represión. Habían transcurrido tres años del triunfo de la revolución, cuando mis padres deciden que vamos a irnos de Cuba, obligados a tomar esta decisión por los sentimientos que experimentamos en el núcleo familiar. Queríamos vivir en libertad.
Éramos una familia de 6 personas: mis padres y sus cuatros hijos, yo soy la mayor, luego esta Mario, después Félix y por último la más pequeña Maydita. Mis padres comenzaron a realizar las gestiones necesarias para salir del país, pero nunca supimos porque, no nos daban el permiso de salida, así pasaron 9 años, hasta que un día llego el permiso para salir hacia España, pero ya mi hermano Mario no podía salir porque había cumplido los 16 años y tenía la edad de hacer el servicio militar obligatorio, y era imposible que saliera. Tenía que esperar a cumplir los 27 años para poder salir del país.
Yo estaba dispuesta a salir, y mis padres decidieron que saldríamos Félix y yo, confiando en poder reunirnos más adelante. Así fue como salimos hacia España, un martes 13 de enero 1970 (2da vez).
Gracias a lo que se conoce como el éxodo del Mariel, yo fui en un barco camaronero a buscar a mi familia, pero el gobierno de Fidel solo me dejo sacar a dos personas y yo escogí a mis hermanos, que por ser jóvenes serían los más difíciles de sacar del país. Luego después de un tiempo mis padres pudieron salir de Cuba hacia España.
Así fue como después de más de 10 años, Félix y yo pudimos reunirnos con nuestros padres y hermanos.
Collecteurs: What was Madrid like at the time? What was it like for Félix, and yourself, traveling with all the uncertainty, and at such a young age?
Gloria González-Torres: At the Havana airport before leaving for Madrid—the second exit—, Félix and I were separated by military airport officials; he was placed in the men’s section and I was placed in the women’s section, they were going to do an in-depth search, and so it was, they made us remove all of our clothes in case we had money or hidden jewelry. When we met again on the way to the plane, he told me how bad it had been for him.
I do not remember much of the plane ride. I do remember the arrival in Madrid, it is not like now that you reach a tunnel. At that time you went down the stairs onto the runway. It was winter and I felt a cold breeze in my legs when I got to the door of the plane, and when the door finally opened, I felt as if I saw colors for the first time; as if I had been seeing in black and white, or gray, my entire life. I later read that this reaction can happen to people who have lived in totalitarian regimes. That was my experience, although Spain was experiencing a dictatorship of its own at the time, there was a very marked difference. Spain was experiencing a declining dictatorship, Cuba was experiencing a young and strong one.
When we arrived at the Madrid airport building, a lady was waiting for us, this lady was Maria Candela, the owner of the guesthouse. She was Spanish but had previously lived in Cuba, in Camagüey. The dollar was highly valued compared to the peseta, so she preferred Cubans that had relatives who paid with dollars to Spaniards who would pay her with pesetas.
En el aeropuerto de la Habana antes de salir para Madrid –segunda salida-, fuimos separados Félix y yo por los funcionarios militares de aeropuerto, a él lo colocaron en una parte de hombres y a mí en una parte de mujeres, iban a hacer un registro a profundidad y así fue, nos hicieron quitar toda la ropa por si llevábamos algo de dinero o joyas escondidas. Luego cuando nos volvimos a encontrar camino al avión, me contó lo mal que lo había pasado.
La verdad que el viaje en el avión lo tengo borrado de la memoria, si recuerdo la llegada a Madrid, no es como ahora que se llega a un túnel, en ese entonces se bajaba de la escalera a la pista, era invierno y recibo el frio en las piernas al llegar a la puerta del avión, y luego me doy cuenta que veo por primera vez los colores, era un descubrimiento, había estado viendo en blanco y negro o gris, luego leí que esa reacción le puede suceder a personas que viven en regímenes totalitarios. Esa fue mi experiencia, aunque España vivía en esos momentos una dictadura había una diferencia muy marcada. La de España era una dictadura en decadencia, la de Cuba era una dictadura nueva y fuerte.
Cuando llegamos al edificio del aeropuerto de Madrid nos está esperando una señora, es María Candela, la dueña de la pensión a donde vamos luego, ella es española pero había vivido en Cuba en Camagüey. Y como dije anteriormente, su conexión con el clero era efectiva. El dólar era muy valorado al cambio con la peseta, la dueña de la pensión prefería tener cubanos que sus familiares pagaban con dolares y no espanoles que le pagarian con pesetas. Asi llegamos a la pension de Maria Candelas.
Collecteurs: Was Félix already showing an interest in art?
Gloria González-Torres: From a young age, Félix’s main interests were adventures, animals, and drawing. He painted the female body a lot. In the family, we have always supported his interest in art and each of us kept something made by Félix. Just beside me, on the wall of my office, hangs an all-blue painting made by Félix of a female figure. This painting was made in Puerto Rico when he was 13 years old or so.
Desde pequeño los mayores intereses de Félix eran las aventuras, los animales y hacer sus dibujos. Pintaba mucho el cuerpo femenino. En la familia siempre hemos apoyado su interés por el arte y cada uno de nosotros conserva algo echo por Félix. Justo a mi lado, en la pared de mi oficina, cuelga una pintura azul hecha por Félix de una figura femenina. esta pintura fue realizada en Puerto Rico puedo pensar que teniendo 13 años más o menos.
Collecteurs: At the beginning of this conversation I alluded to the personal history embedded in Félix’s body of work. As close as you were to Félix, I can imagine there are works, or references in the parenthetical titles that accompany certain works, that you can personally relate to as having experienced alongside Félix. Can you recall a work that, directly or indirectly, references this period in Félix’s (and your) life?
Gloria González-Torres: Yes, there are undoubtedly many works created by Félix which I feel a personal connection to. However, while I am happy to provide insight into the background of these images, I feel equally compelled to note that the complexities behind Félix’s decision to reveal private information fall beyond the scope of this conversation. Nonetheless, it is always refreshing for me, though with great sadness, to revisit these memories by way of Félix’s work.
The first work that comes to mind is a small pile of cough drops on top of a handkerchief “Untitled” (Throat), 1991. That handkerchief belonged to our father, Emilio. I remember that white thread handkerchief perfectly because I gifted it to him. It was from a Swiss brand that I found in a store in Puerto Rico called Sterling House. It was the 80s and I was only able to find it there. I also gave him others with his initial “E.” It was very usual for men to carry handkerchiefs, something that is exceedingly rare now, but in the times of our father, it was strange for a man to be without a handkerchief in his pocket.
Most of the works that directly reference these personal memories are depicted via puzzles. One of the most notable is an image of Félix alongside a monument, with the words Madrid 1971 placed above it. I do not understand why it says 1971, this photo of Félix was taken in 1970 — we hold the original photograph in the Family Archive. The pullover that he is wearing in the photo was sent from Puerto Rico by our cousins while we were in Spain; at that time in Spain, everything that was from the USA was highly valued because it was considered rare. I remember that they were two similar pullovers, but with different colors. Since the moment he received them, Félix did not take them off; he liked the pullovers very much, but also did not have much to choose from. The monument that appears next to the photo must be a photo taken by Félix on a later trip to Europe I suppose, as an adult.
Sí, sin duda hay muchas obras creadas por Félix con las que siento una conexión personal. Sin embargo, si bien me complace brindar información sobre el trasfondo de estas imágenes, me siento igualmente obligado a señalar que las complejidades detrás de la decisión de Félix de revelar información privada quedan fuera del alcance de esta conversación. No obstante, siempre me resulta reconfortante, aunque con gran tristeza, volver a visitar estos recuerdos a través de la obra de Félix. La primera obra que me viene a la mente es un pequeño montón de pastillas para la tos encima de un pañuelo. Ese pañuelo perteneció a nuestro padre, Emilio. Recuerdo perfectamente ese pañuelo de hilo blanco porque se lo regalé. Era de una marca suiza que encontré en una tienda en Puerto Rico llamada Sterling House. Eran los 80s y solo pude encontrarlo allí, también le di otros con su inicial “E.” Era muy habitual que los hombres llevaran pañuelos, algo sumamente raro ahora, pero en la época de nuestro padre, era extraño que un hombre no tuviera pañuelo en su bolsillo.
La mayoría de las obras que hacen referencia directa a estos recuerdos personales se representan mediante rompecabezas. Uno de los más notables es una imagen de Félix junto a un monumento, con las palabras Madrid 1971 colocadas encima. No entiendo por qué dice 1971, esta foto de Félix fue tomada en 1970; tenemos la fotografía original en el Archivo Familiar. El “pullover” que lleva puesto en la foto fue enviada desde Puerto Rico por nuestras primas, era muy interesante porque en esa época en España todo lo que fuera de USA era muy apreciado porque no era muy visto. Recuerdo que eran dos “pullovers” parecidos, pero con colores distintos. Desde que llegaron, Félix no se las quitó; le gustaron y además no tenía mucho donde escoger. El monumento que aparece al lado de la foto debe ser una foto tomada por Félix en un viaje posterior a Europa, supongo, como adulto.
Collecteurs: Can you tell us anything about the photo of the airplane?
Gloria González-Torres: The photo of the airplane was taken at the Barajas airport in Madrid, I vaguely remember being lent the camera with which I took the photo, it is the airplane in which Félix left Madrid for Puerto Rico, it was a direct trip.
I developed the photo when I arrived at Puerto Rico, that is why it says Dec 1970 on the edge. It was a color photo, but with time and its poor quality it is already losing its color, I also have a photo of Félix from this day in the Family Archive. I put a suit on him, and he became serious because he did not like it, although I thought he looked very elegant!
La foto del avión fue tomada en el aeropuerto de Barajas, me parece recordar que me prestaron la cámara con la que tomé la foto, es el avión en que salía Félix de Madrid hacia Puerto Rico, era un viaje directo.
Luego cuando yo llegué a Puerto Rico la llevé a revelar, por eso dice en el borde Dic 1970. ¡Era una foto a color, pero con el paso del tiempo y la poca calidad del revelado ya está perdiendo su color, también tengo una foto de Félix el día de su salida de Madrid para Puerto Rico, yo le puse un traje y él estaba serio porque no le gustaba, pero a mí me pareció que estaba elegantísimo!